


Everything and a Kite

by Sab



Category: The X-Files
Genre: (Uploaded by Punk), Actual Goldfish, All Dialogue, Break Up?, F/M, Late Night Phone Calls, Metaphorical Goldfish, Relationship Talk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2000-01-06
Updated: 2000-01-06
Packaged: 2017-11-29 23:45:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/692903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sab/pseuds/Sab
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sunday night, 2:11 a.m. So, officially Monday. (Uploaded by Punk, from The Sabrary.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Everything and a Kite

**Author's Note:**

> This is the closest I've ever come to an angst-free fic. And considering the subject matter, it's a little bizarre. Go figure. No goldfish were harmed in the making of this phone call.
> 
> For Jodi, for the best in drive-thru beta and simultaneous fic. And for cofax, because there was nothing I could do to stop it!

"It's me."  
"I know."  
"I knew you knew."  
"It's two eleven in the morning, Mulder."  
"Why aren't you here?"  
"Because I went home."  
"Why don't I miss you?"  
"Why did you call? I was asleep."  
"No, you weren't."  
"I was mostly asleep."  
"You were wondering why you weren't here, too, Scully, don't even try. I can hear you smiling."

"You know what's funny?"  
"Clowns."  
"Clowns aren't funny, Mulder. They're scary."  
"What's funny?"  
"I don't miss you either."

"I'm gonna hang up now."  
"Do that."

*click*

*ring*

*ri- *

"I knew it."  
"Can we talk about this?"  
"Why?"  
"I don't know, Mulder. I think because I think we're supposed to."

"She didn't mean anything to me, Scully. It was just one night."  
"Who?"  
"Nobody. It just seemed like the right thing to say at the time."  
"Where are you?"  
"On the couch. Upside down. My feet are in the air. Against the wall. All the blood is rushing to my head."  
"Glad I asked."  
"Does that turn you on at all?"  
"All the blood rushing to your head?"  
"Maybe not just that head. Maybe a different head."  
"Shut up, Mulder."  
"Shutting up."

"You called me, Scully."  
"You called me first."  
"Did you mean it?"  
"Did I mean to call? I'm beginning to doubt it."  
"No; did you mean –"  
"I knew what you meant. Yes. Of course I did. You know I did."  
"You hate me."  
"Of course I don't hate you. Will you stop that?"  
"Does this mean I can't make sex jokes?"  
"Sex jokes, Mulder?"  
"Don't mind if I do. A seventy-five year old man gets a singing telegram for his birthday –"  
"Stop you if I've heard this one."  
"You've heard this one, Scully?"

"I don't know what to do."  
"Why do you have to do anything?"  
"I'm gonna see you in...six hours. For the first time."  
"No, I'm pretty sure you've seen me before, Scully."  
"You know what I mean."

"I know what you mean. Sure."  
"So? So, it's weird, Mulder."  
"It doesn't have to be."  
"Tell me everything."  
"Everything?"  
"Everything and a kite."

"Everybody loves Raymond, Scully."  
"So they say."

"What are we talking about, here, Mulder?"  
"You called me."  
"Quit it. I'm serious."  
"I'm Roebuck. Who's watching the store?"

"Scully? Scully, you're not laughing."  
"I'm laughing a little bit."  
"Okay. I know. Let's talk."  
"Thank you."

"Tonight was good."  
"Tonight was great, Mulder."  
"Wellllll, don't flatter yourself, G-Woman."  
" _Now_ I'm laughing."  
"I can hear it. Yes. Great. It always is. Always has been."  
"So why are we –"  
"What are you asking me, Scully? Why we decided tonight was the last time?"

"Are we just being stupid?"  
"Speak for yourself, babe."  
"I mean, are we being stupid _now_ , or were we stupid _before_?"  
"You tell me."

"Maybe I should just hang up, Mulder."  
"Five bucks says you don't."

*click*

*ring*  
*ring*  
*ring*

"Okay, so I owe you a cup of coffee. I'm gonna spit in it."  
"You wouldn't dare."  
"Come on, Scully. You're a doctor. We've swapped spit before. I don't see you coming down with something gangrenous."  
"You're a fucking Hallmark card, you know that?"

"You knew I'd call back."  
"We're not done, Mulder. I don't know. I don't feel done."  
"Ah, 'closure.' Yeah, I've heard the bitches dig that."  
"Bitches?"  
"Was that over the top, there?"  
"A little bit."  
"Well, it's late."

"Look, Scully. You know how I feel. I know how you feel."  
"I feel a bit ridiculous, and I miss my little dog."  
"Agent Scully! Call the man a dog, but don't you comment on his size, you hear me?"  
"I meant Queequeg. And you know it. Somehow, he made it easier to admit I like living alone. I like being alone. He's a very convenient excuse. Was."

"See, here, now, I was trying to be all serious-like and you stole my thunder."  
"Sorry, Mulder. Go ahead."  
"Nah, the moment's passed."

"Please?"  
"Scully? Are you crying?"  
"No. Not at all."  
"I didn't think so."  
"No, I'm really not, Mulder. I'm just tired."

"Look, Scully. He said again."  
"Keep going."  
"These past few weeks have been..."  
"Oh, spare me."  
"Sorry. Let me try again."  
"Please do, Mulder."  
"Can I start with that hokey line and we'll just pretend it's not hokey?"  
"Sure. Fine. Whatever."

"These past few weeks have been...really not normal at all."  
"Unlike the previous six years, which were bastions of normalcy."  
"Let the man finish, won't you?"  
"Yes."

"These past few weeks have been weird and wonderful. Spooky and weird and wonderful."  
"Yes."  
"We had a lot of sex."  
"That we did."  
"Great sex. Unanswered-question sex."  
"Mulder, what is this?"  
"This is everything and a kite. You asked."  
"I did. You're right. This is better. Are you still upside down?"  
"Less so, but still in the general opossum position."

"Tell me why it was great."  
"You want Harlequin novel? Now?"  
"Do it."  
"Ooh, talk dirty to me, Scully."

"Look, I just want to figure this out. I want the facts laid out. I want to go into work tomorrow and not think I've made a mistake."  
"It's never too late to change your mind, Scully."  
"Yes, it is, Mulder. We agreed. So let's figure this out."

"The very first afternoon you had very dirty hair."  
"We'd been in the Dust Bowl for three days, Mulder. I hate to split hairs – no pun intended – but you hadn't showered that week either."  
"I'm just recounting."  
"Recount."  
"Did I smell that terrible?"  
"I liked it. It made the whole thing more subversive, somehow."  
"You think this was subversive?"  
"Mulder!"  
"Never mind. Moving on. Very dirty hair. And, you may not know this, but, like seventy five percent of my perception of you starts with the top of your head. I see an awful lot of it."  
"I never really thought about that. How's the top of my head?"  
"On a good day, enough to make a white boy sing."  
"Oh, please don't."  
"I wasn't planning on it. All I'm saying is; we've spent six years together. I know every gritty inch of you."  
"Six and a half."  
"Six and a half. Yes. And I spent a good portion of it trying to come up with good excuses to bury my face in the top of your head."  
"You found quite a number of them."  
"Well, I try, my dear; I try."  
"Keep going."

"Mulder?"

"Mulder?"

"I'm sitting up now. I think you should come over."

"Mulder. I can't. I can't."  
"You don't want to."  
"No. I don't want to."  
"So there's your answer."  
"I want to know _why_ I don't want to. I'm a scientist. Help me."

"I'm a psychologist. I know why."  
"So tell me."  
"I had a goldfish when I was in college –"  
"You have goldfish now."  
"I had a goldfish when I was in college, Scully, and one day I came home to my apartment and looked at the poor stupid thing and thought, how much longer can he live, really? A month, if he's lucky? And I thought, do I really want to be responsible for this thing when he dies? So I took the whole damned bowl and walked it down to the campus center and gave it to Helen Logan."  
"And ten to one the two of you ended up in bed together."  
"That's not the point."  
"You're laughing, Mulder."  
"It's still not the point. It was, like, a year later before Helen and I ended up in bed together. The point was, I didn't want to deal with a fish that was just going to up and die on me, so I got rid of it."  
"But you have fish now."  
"Yes, dear Watson, but _you_ don't. I think you're pulling a preemptive strike. You're afraid to explore this thing with me because you don't want to be responsible for it when – and if – it dies."

"I had a dog."  
"Yes."  
"I miss him."  
"Okay."

"Okay."  
"Okay."

"These past few weeks _were_ great, Mulder. I'm glad we tried it. Did it."  
"And?"  
"And I think the goldfish is dead."  
"Man, that was hokier than that last thing."  
"You started it."  
"It's true. I take it back."

"You really think so, Scully? You think this thing doesn't deserve a chance?"  
"It had a chance."

"So what happens the next time I find myself staring at the top of your head and thinking, man, I'm the luckiest son of a bitch in the world to be this close to you, and I'm not taking advantage of my opportunity? What happens next time you start spouting pathology jargon and I find myself chomping at the bit to keep from throwing you down on the damned metal table and having my way with you?"

"Are you in love with me, Mulder?"

"No."

"I didn't think so."

"Are you in love with me, Scully?"

"No."

"Really? But I'm so alluring!"  
"And not half bad in bed, either."  
"Never had any complaints."

"So we're making the right choice."  
"Are you gonna say it, or should I? Because you're the one who needs convincing."  
"I'll gladly say that if we ever find ourselves in a position where there wants to be table-throwing, we can rethink this."  
"It's a safe bet."  
"But let's not think about that now."  
"So? Are you gonna say 'the line', or should I?"  
"Go for it."

"We make better friends."  
"Yes. We do, Mulder. And partners."  
"Always."

"So. Finish the joke."  
"I thought you'd heard it?"  
"I was lying."  
"Minx."  
"Finish the joke, Mulder."  
"A man is turning 75 years old. A friend of his sends him a telegram. She gets to his house –"  
"Condo."  
"She gets to his condo and rings the bell. A stunning little vixen in sequins and a bowler –"  
"I. Am. Your singing telegram."  
"Please don't sing."  
"Stopping."  
"Anyway. The little ingenue tips her head and hollers 'Super Sex!'"  
"Super sex?"  
"Yes, Scully. And the man – the 75 year old man – says, 'I'll have the soup.' Get it?"  
"I get it."

"You're laughing, Scully. It's so good that you're laughing. You sure you don't want to come over?"  
"Now I'm laughing harder."  
"You're right. What are you wearing, Scully?"

"I'm going to bed, Mulder."  
"I'm going to couch, myself."

"Good night, Mulder."

"Scully?"

"Yeah."

"Everything. Really."

"And a kite."

"Yeah, Scully. And a kite."

"I know, Mulder. Me too. Good night."

"Good night."


End file.
